Bad Blood
by ecriver
Summary: Hermione Granger prided herself on being a Muggleborn. To her, her blood status was merely proof that "purity" didn't mean a thing. To Draco Malfoy, her blood status meant that he could never have her. So when Hermione finds out she's a pureblood, chaos is sure to reign.
1. Chapter 1

I gave my trunk another once-over just to make sure I had everything I needed. I was going back to school in a matter of hours and I needed to be ready. Especially after gaining the position of Head Girl, I had a reputation to uphold. No silly mistakes, like forgetting socks. Everything needed to be perfect. I was Hermione Granger after all, what more (or less, if you think about it) could you expect? I had gotten and packed all of my supplies except for clothes weeks ago, as per my usual behavior. Harry and Ron enjoyed teasing me about my organizational habits, though I couldn't see any humor in it. What was funny about being prepared?

"Mione?" a voice called from downstairs. Dad, probably.

"I'm packing, yeah? Be down in a second!" I gave it what was possibly the thirtieth check, and sighed. That was as good as it was going to get, and I'd just have to deal with any complications that might arise. _No, Hermione _I told myself No complications. All I wanted was a peaceful year, what with the war finally over. I finally had a chance to be Hermione Granger, bookworm, instead of Hermione Granger, _Mudblood_ bookworm. I hadn't yet told anyone this- all my friends would scoff at me and tell me that they'd never considered me a Muggleborn, and that it had never bothered them. But I knew that I couldn't relate to them as well as I would've liked; Harry being the only one that understood half of what came out of my mouth. Well, Harry and Ron, but the latter was of the impression that a banana was used to call people.

"MIONE!" That was weird. Dad wasn't one to have a temper. Even when I was younger, Mum was always the one to reprimand me. She was never violent or anything; don't get the wrong idea. Dad was just the more soft-spoken of the two, and he'd always been content to let Mum take on all my anger and blame. If he was angry, It'd probably be best for me to get downstairs, and now.

"COMING!" I sighed again and stood up, unconsciously brushing my knees, even though I wasn't wearing my Hogwarts skirt yet. It had become a habit over the years. I walked the short diameter of my cream-carpet-covered room and pushed the door open with my palm. I never fully closed it anyway, Mum and Dad had forbidden me from locking it, as they were afraid I would be ambushed in my sleep and they'd be unable to help me at all. I didn't mention to them that I was a witch, who had a wand, and was more than capable of taking care of herself, thank you very much. I guess they just needed to feel as though they were protecting me.

I had managed to wander halfway down the stairs without realizing it, thanks to my reminiscing. I quickly ran down the few remaining and joined my parents in the living room. Sitting across from Mum and Dad were two people, a man and a woman, who looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place them.

"Mum? Dad?" The woman sniffled at this, and the man sitting next to her shifted uncomfortably in his seat. I looked at them oddly before turning back to my parents.

"Hermione, you need to take a seat for this." It was my Mum who spoke up this time. She seemed to have aged a decade since I had last looked at her properly, less than twelve hours ago. I obeyed her command and sat down in a worn loveseat that had been in the corner of our living room for as long as I could remember. Even when my parents moved to Australia and sold the house, the sofa remained.

Mum waited a bit before saying anything, seemingly nervous about this whole ordeal, which was a bit out of character for her. I had, after all, gotten my forwardness from her. Dad, for all his yelling before, was sitting quietly at her side. "Darling, I don't know how to make this easy."

"What easy?"

"You were adopted, well, kind of."

I had always prided myself on my levelheadedness, but at that moment, I had no inkling of what to say or do. After a moment of sitting there, unmoving, I opened my mouth "How can I be 'kind of' adopted?" As always, the most practical questions came first. For the moment at least, the strange man and woman were forgotten.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! Thanks for the positive response on the last chapter! I wrote that this time last year on but was too scared to post it, so you might notice a change in my writing style. I like to think I got better :) Sorry for the delay on this chapter, I spent a few weeks looking for my old prewrite and then I was lazy for a while. Anyway, enjoy!  
**

"Well, darling.." began Mum, speaking painfully slowly, as if to ease me into the subject, "You were left at our doorstep around the time we'd-" she indicated to Dad and herself "-found out I was infertile. We decided that we'd keep you instead of sending you into the foster care system. You're still not legally ours; that's why we've never taken you on a flight, or allowed you to get your driver's licence."

"We wanted to, but we _couldn't_," Dad added after a moment of my silence "We didn't-and don't- have any papers for you."

"You mean to say that I don't legally exist?" I sounded much calmer than I felt, even to my own ears, though my head was spinning. I hadn't picked up on the hints that seemed so obvious now. To be fair, being at boarding school for three quarters of the year really killed any desire to go on vacation during the summers. I was content to stay at home and go on the occasional road trip with my parents. And, since I'd learned to apparate, not being allowed to get a licence hadn't really mattered to me- at least, not enough to think so deeply about.

"Yes." My mother replied, breaking me out of my reverie. She looked as if she wanted to say something else, but seemed to have decided against it. "Well, at least not in this world."

"Okay, mum, I really don't think I'm an alien." And there it was the first lapse in my cool façade. But really, telling someone that she was adopted, and not even legally was a bit much to take in. Even for someone as levelheaded as me.

"She means the muggle world," came a voice from the corner of the room. I looked at the speaker, the man I'd briefly noticed and then forgotten. He still hadn't taken his cloak off, so his face wasn't visible. Mum nodded in agreement, though Dad looked uncomfortable at the word 'muggle.'

"What to do mean?" I let the question hang in the air, waiting for any of the parties in the room to answer. Everyone in the room turned to the couple shrouded in wispy robes.

"You are a descended from a purely magical blood line," said the man quietly, finally pulling down the hood that'd been shrouding his face from view. After a quick glance at whom I'm assuming to be her husband, the woman did as well. Both faces were ethereally beautiful, and made for quite an odd sight, as their bodies were sitting on a faded and cracked leather sofa that'd honestly seen better days.

"You mean to say I'm…a pureblood?" I sincerely hoped this wasn't true. I _prided_ myself on being a muggleborn. Sure, being called names wasn't fun, but I believed that my lineage disproved the idea of blood purity. I was a muggleborn, and smarter than most everybody else. That _meant _something to me!

".. your parents" the man finished what he'd been saying. I

"Sorry, what?" I asked, as I'd zoned out during his speech.

"We," he repeated patiently, if a little forcefully "The Zabinis, are your true family."

"Zabini, as in Blaise?" I asked. I paused moment, and then added "Biological, maybe. I don't really believe you. But you are _definitely_ not my true parents"

"Hermione!" Mum admonished halfheartedly. Dad, on the other hand, didn't even bother trying to hide his snigger. The woman on the sofa flinched as if I'd smacked her. I felt a twinge of guilt, but was quick to push it aside. After all, she and her husband were the ones to leave me with strangers.

That is, if anything the strange people- the Zabinis- said was true. I was having trouble believing what they claimed to be true. I didn't even _look_ like them, for god's sake. They were both ridiculously tall and supermodel-like. I, on the other hand, was short, bushy-haired and closer to average than anything else.

"My word choice was poor. We are your _biological_ family," the man rephrased his earlier statement exasperatedly. "And yes, Blaise is your brother. Your twin, to be precise."

"I don't believe you," I said. "_Veritatam revelare!_" A hazy glow encompassed the two other wizards in the room, telling me that everything they'd said up to that point was indeed true. Neither one of them commented on my use of the spell, though the man ground his teeth. Most wizards didn't take kindly to having such spells cast on them without their consent, but these were extenuating circumstances.

"Does Blaise know that I exist?" I asked, a bit calmer now that I knew that they weren't lying.

"Yes," the woman mum? spoke this time. "Well, he had no idea that it was _you_, but yes, he knows that he once had a sister. He's also aware that we are with her at this very moment."

"Why don't I look like you?" I asked, once I'd processed the information about my brother. I looked more like the Grangers than I did the Zabinis, which confused me.

"You had a charm placed on you when we left you on the doorstep; It caused you to look like whoever you ended up with. We can take it off, if you'd like." The woman said.

"Can I have some time to decide?" I requested. "I think that taking it off now would cause chaos once I got to school. Also, what am I supposed to call you?"

The couple nodded agreeably. "Well, Blaise calls us 'Mother,' and 'Father.' You can do the same if you'd like," the man, no _Father,_ suggested, sounding a lot more lighthearted than he had just moments before. Maybe it was because of my being less hostile, I don't know.

"Am I to live with you from now on?" I asked tentatively.

"Yes." The answer was succinct. "Now, we must depart for King's Cross, est we miss your train. You can apparate, yes?

"Yeah," I said, sounding less formal than either of them. "But what about Blaise? Where is he? And I'd like to be able to visit the Grangers- I _was_ raised by them. Also, why'd you leave me?"

"We'll have to talk later," said Mother, "but now we need to go. Blaise will meet us at Platform 9 and 3/4." Those were the last words I heard before the tunnel of apparition surrounded me.


End file.
